#wh40crack

[shiyorin]

What do you think it would be like if primarchs used social media?

Lion El'Jonson:

Private account, doesn't accept follower requests

Rarely posts, usually just sunset or forest photos

Uses emojis sarcastically in replies

Has 20 followers but thinks it's way too many

Fulgrim:

Aesthetic pictures pose artfully depict exotic hobbies and runway couture 

Filters all photos to perfection  

Constantly debates high art vs pop culture 

Thirst traps cause monthly massacres

"Like for a follow back 🔥" 

Perturabo:

Photos are exclusively poorly-lit fortress blueprints 

Bio is 25000 character treatise on siege tactics

Follows exactly 12 history scholars 

Hates everyone and everything on the site 

Actually ran some incisive political commentary bots before being banned

Jaghatai Khan: 

Only posts the sickest motocross and extreme sports clips

Videos have insane views but no captions 

Fans think he's a cryptid until rare livestreams 

Hijacks Fulgrim's comments to hype rad stunts

Leman Russ:

Changed his name to 'Wolf Daddy 🐺'

Shirtless hunting/drinking photos get 10K likes

Roasts everyone in comments but they love it  

Followers think he's a viking hipster meme page

Follows biker gangs, sled dog accts, scholars of old Terra 

Rogal Dorn:

Only posts are architectural blueprints and records of fortifications

Gets into epic debates about structural principles in comments  

No one knows if he actually loads new content or just archives old

Somehow gains tons of followers thirsting for DILF

Konrad Curze:

Pure darkness and screams in hazy JPEGs 

3 followers and they're all bots

Posts disturbing ‘prophecies’ and murder puzzles

Under investigation for doxxing

Sanguinius: 

Angelic selfies bring all the followers to his page    

Flowing locks and golden abs get 20K likes instantly   

Quotes poetry in every reply but no one understands 

Only follows animal shelter and children's hospital accounts

Ferrus Manus:

Only follows engineering/robotics pages

Posts heavily filtered machine shop mini-documentaries 

Photos of custom machines that make engineers weep

Comments are unintelligible techno-babble  

Somehow gains huge gym bro following thirsting for muscle

Angron:

Gets banned monthly for graphic content and abuse

Posts angry rants about society in broken caps

Got suspended after sending death threats to Guilliman

Only follower is Khârn who comments 'THIS' on everything  

Roboute Guilliman:

Shares updates on the latest Codexes 

Only follows serious history/philosophy lecture pages

Posts long analyses of governance strategies 

Constantly lectures others in comments

Has blocked half his followers for trolling

Mortarion:

Aesthetic is grimy gas mask selfies in back alleys

ONLY reposts plague doctor memes from 2003

Bio is endless copypasta about essential oils

Gains cult following of goths, metal heads and preppers

Magnus:

Endless livestreams talking about theoretical magic at 3AM with 2 viewers. 

Tries making TikToks explaining sorcery but the videos are an hour long each.

Overexplains memes and emojis in long-winded threads

Memes and facts threads blow up as the most esoteric

Horus Lupercal:

Selfies showing off abs get him 50K followers in a week

Posts stunning photos from across the Imperium with #blessed captions

Fan club is half the mankind 

DMs from people asking for selfies blow up his notifications  

Lorgar Aurelian:

Aesthetic is dark robes and candlelit monasteries

Constantly reposting zealot sermons out of context

Accidentally starts wars of faith whenever he livestreams

Got suspended for uploading hardcore Slaneeshi hymns

Still has 10 alt accounts all named Brother [REDACTED]

Vulkan:

Only follows puppy accounts and craft bloggers

Posts Happy Holiday baking tutorials and dad jokes

Likes and comments positivity on everyone's posts

Followers think he's the nicest DILF ever online

Secretly the biggest wholesome meme page

Corvus Corax:

Only darkness, shadow puppets and cryptic poems

No one knows if he's real or a myth on the deep web

Internet detectives can’t trace his true identity  

Only sends encrypted coordinates in mysterious DMs  

No one has any idea what he's trying to say  

1 follower is Alpharius who only replies 'No, I'm Alpharius'

Alpharius/Omegon:

Constantly pretending to be other online  

No one knows their true forms or agenda 

Takeovers of government sites spark conspiracies

Leaves clues implicating everyone else’s schemes

#warhammer 40k #wh40crack #primarch #lol #warhammer 40000

[im-not-a-owl]

A little info for first-time Night Lords husbandry enthusiasts, just because they are called Chaos Marines does not mean you should put them with other breeds of Chaos Marines. Many Night Lords have a strong annoyance with chaos and chaos-related objects. Not all feel this way about chaos but always check before introducing them to chaos marines.

Ave Dominus Nox

#meme #night lords #ave dominus nox #space marine husbandry #god what have I wrote #wh40crack. #40k

[wxnheart]

What is cuddling with the primarchs like. (And no just writing morty off with a stank joke plz)

Horus - Very affectionate, complete with quips and kisses. Loves to hold you in the crook of his arm. His tits are wonderful pillows.

Leman Russ - Leman is quite the cuddler, especially because he really likes skin-to-skin contact when you two cuddle. More than likely, you'll both be naked. To your surprise, horizontal loving doesn't happen as often as you thought it would.

Ferrus Manus - A bit stilted but he's got the spirit. His arms are of great interest to you so it's not out of the ordinary to marvel at them.

Fulgrim - Cuddling with Fulgrim has an 85% chance of leading to... other things so yeah. Cuddling also includes a very elaborate primping session.

Vulkan - About as vanilla and saccharine as it gets. Doesn't usually last long because the giant teddy bear is a walking furnace.

Rogal Dorn - Also a bit stilted with him, too. If anything, you'll be tucked under him and engaging in conversation over his latest project. His voice, though he doesn't believe it, is quite sonorous and lulls you into a peaceful doze.

Roboute Guilliman - You're the one sitting in his lap while he's busy doing paperwork or the like. You like to tease him and he'll chuckle and tell you to behave; this is said rather suggestively, too. 👀

Magnus - Funnily enough, you're cuddling and playing with his hair while nestled comfortably in one arm while he's busy reading a book or perhaps the latest treatise his brother Lorgar wrote.

Sanguinius - Just as saccharine as Vulkan's, complete with you being enveloped in his wings just as much are you are in his arms. Touching his feathers will make him rouse his wings, though.

Lion El'Jonson - LMAO.

Perturabo - You're begrudgingly (read: happily) nestled against him and he begrudgingly (read: ABSOLUTELY) accepts it.

Mortarion - The clingy koala of the group, even with the scowl on his face. If he had his way, he'd never let go. Don't you dare tell his brothers or sons, though.

Lorgar - The one who cocoons himself around you. He absolutely, positively adores your cuddle sessions. It's a wonderful retreat away from his obligations and foster father.

Jaghatai Khan - You're holding on to him for dear life while he goes fast so there goes your cuddle session. He's really the one who has no objections to cuddling but he doesn't actively seek them out, either.

Konrad Curze - Does looming over you smirking like a deranged gremlin count as cuddling? If so, then... nice!

Angron - One of the many reasons he has to hate the Nails. Wants your touch. Yearns for it, actually, and if he didn't have them, he'd have Mortarion beat as the clingiest koala to ever cling. Instead, he has to contend with thought and you have to contend with the crazed way he looks at you. Cheers, darling.

Corvus Corax - Cuddling him is like being enveloped by the comfortable darkness. Whenever you're surrounded by it, you're secure in his arms.

Alpharius - You cuddle one, you cuddle them all. Cuddle pile!

#request fill. #warhammer 40k #wh40crack. #primarch #primarch x reader #horus lupercal #leman russ #ferrus manus #fulgrim #vulkan #rogal dorn #roboute guilliman #magnus the red #sanguinius #lion el'jonson #perturabo #mortarion #lorgar aurelian #jaghatai khan #konrad curze #angron #corvus corax #alpharius omegon

[lxvvie]

Being in a relationship with Lorgar Aurelian would consist of:

Your relationship being the embodiment of Dating What Daddy (Kor Phaeron) Hates.

Learning to ignore Kor Phaeron's increasing frustration with Lorgar's refusal to leave you be. Erebus on the other hand finds this development amusing.

Lorgar initially admiring you from afar; interestingly enough, it took some time for him to approach you but when he did, it was a fast track into a relationship.

Having a very demonstrative lover in your Primarch. Especially when it comes to physical affection.

Lorgar practically worshipping you, especially because you aren't critical in the way his father and brothers are, which translates into...

Him sharing the drafts of his writings with you.

The Word Bearers venerating you just the same. Depending.

Letting Lorgar ruminate and philosophize freely in your presence. Depending on the topic, you may or may not contribute but the simple fact that he can do so without restraint endears you to him greatly.

Lorgar's very... sonorous voice putting you at ease. Or sleep. Or making you flustered. Or all three and some more. Lorgar, knowing that you find his voice so pleasing, puts this to good use.

When it comes to matters of the... physical nature, two words: corruption kink. From both sides. Lorgar is a very vocal, very cunning linguist in more ways than one.

Just like Sanguinius is protective of his significant other, so, too is Lorgar when it comes to you. You're not a secret per se but he would much rather you not be around his... extended family. Much. For a plethora of reasons. This is his way of preserving the sanctity of you two's relationship.

#nsfw-ish. #wh40crack. #warhammer 40k #lorgar aurelian #word bearers #lorgar aurelian x reader #lorgar aurelian x you #warhammer x reader #warhammer x you #primarch #primarch x reader #primarch x you #random note: I headcanon that Lorgar is the most well-endowed out of all the Primarchs but no one believes it lmao.

[wolf-tail]

primarch walking around with a space marine strapped to his chest like a baby send tweet

#warhammer 40k #warhammer 40000 #wh40k #primarchs #wh40crack.

[thevoidscreams]

If requests are open, could i request a fluffy fic with horus and his baseline human companion. Maybe when he gets appointed Warmaster or just something along those lines?

"You deserve it. No one but you could have been fit for this job. Otherwise, the Emperor would have picked someone else."

Horus sighed and relaxed into his bed. "I know that. But what if I fail him. My father has put so much on my shoulders, and now I'm expected to do what he did. Lead the crusade."

You set your brush down on the desk he'd gotten for you to keep your things on and went over to the bed. You were both dressed for the evening and getting comfortable before bed.

"I think you don't give yourself enough credit." You smiled and climbed into the bed Horus had aquired for you both. He'd wanted you to be comfortable.

The newly appointed war master took you into his arms and set down the old Terran book he'd been studying.

"I'm the primarch of the 16th, and now I've been made the warmaster, I think I've been given my fair share of credit."

"Still not enough, in my opinion. I won't be happy till every city, on every world, has a statue of you." You smiled, and Horus sighed warmly.

Leaning down, he kissed the side of your face. It was such a soft gesture for one so big and powerful.

"What would I do without you?" He smiled, you smiled too.

"Probably what you're doing now, just without me." You said. He shivered at the thought. In your short few years together, he'd grown so attached to you.

You were his soft place, the place his hearts longed fit at the end of a long day. He'd keel your closet when he could, but he'd never risk your life by bringing you onto a battlefield. So time away was inevitably going to happen, and he'd long for you every moment you were apart.

"Don't even joke about that. I couldn't do this without you."

You kissed his cheek. "You would be just fine. You're a primarch. You're built to withstand much worse things than not having a human to keep you warm at night." You chuckled.

Horus frowns, his eyes softening as one of his large fingers combs through your freshly beushed hair. "I wouldn't want to do this all without you. Why do you think I went through all that trouble to have you augmented to live longer. I don't do that for just anyone."

"I know, Lulu. I'm just poking fun." The only person who had nickname for him like that was you.

He pulled you closer. No one else would have been allowed to call him Lulu and get away with it. But he didn't hate the nickname when it was from you. Because Horus did indeed love you.

"My strange little companion, whatever shall I do with you?"

"Some cuddles before bed would be nice."

"Then cuddles it shall be."

You both slipped into a calm, comfortable silence. Lupercal staves off sleep just a bit longer, though watching you sleep soundly in his arms.

Leaning down, he kissed your cheek, causing you to hum and smile in your sleep.

"I love you." He said, so soft it was barely above a whisper. "More than I'll ever be able to tell you. More than I'll ever be able to explain." He closed his eyes, and peaceful sleep took him.

The future and all its responsibilities could wait.

#warhammer 40k #warhammer #40k #primarch x reader #primarchs #fanfiction #primarch #my writing #wh40crack. #horus lupercal #Horus lupercal x reader #x reader

[whatdoyoumeanitsnotcanon]

Primarch x Reader - Nothing Says Affection Quite Like...

...Playfully telling Jaghatai Khan that he does not, in fact, go fast because you go faster. You didn't expect a response but you were pleasantly surprised that he found your joke funny enough to warrant a small chuckle.

...Tricking Leman Russ into saying he's the goodest of bois. It was an inane argument, really, and one you refuse to acknowledge that Leman won, but you had to jump on the opportunity to get your dear Primarch back. So one day you happened to ask him in front of the Space Wolves, "Who's a good boy?" to which he automatically replied, "I am—Damn it!" And oh, the awkward silence that ensued afterward was music to your ears.

...Threatening to smack Fulgrim for the 3949343894958239th time if he doesn't. stop. leering at you! By the throne, you're supposed to be working! This is Fulgrim we're talking about so he naturally throws your words back at you. "Is that a promise...?" What?

...Sanguinius confirming your belief that he has, what was it, himbo tendencies? Strange, those ancient words, but fitting nonetheless for your Great Angel. It was a random conversation about hair. Hair. Don't ask how it came about. And somehow that turned into talking about the color of Rogal Dorn's and Fulgrim's hair and then that turned into Sanguinius thinking this was your way of saying he's going grey. ("Primarchs can go grey?") You later find out he spent the better part of a few days checking his hair for any signs of grey, asked his most trusted sons if he was going grey, and then spoke to Fulgrim about it. Fulgrim's existential meltdown (as described by his lover) is another story altogether.

...Somehow turning Angron into an angry burrito with the help of a multitude of plush blankets. It is as ridiculous as it sounds.

...The quiet satisfaction on Lorgar's face as you piss Kor Phaeron off for the millionth time.

...Finding the right words to express your love for Roboute. You said that he was, uh, indispensable like Recaf. "...But you do not like Recaf." "Exactly." "......" "WAIT, NO—"

...Enjoying the way Lion's face scrunches up because he's too emotionally constipated to react any other way. Your shenanigans usually range from booping the snoot to calling him various pet names.

...Mortarion having an existential crisis because you joked that "7 8 9." ".............??!?!?!?!?!?!??!"

#warhammer 40k #primarch x reader #wh40crack. #[1/2] #this is your brain on slaanesh lmao.

[moyavera]

BOYZ AND GROTZ OV EVEREE SIZE

WOULDN’T YOO LIKE TO SEE SUMFING NICE

COME WIV US AND YOO WILL SEE

DIS IS DA TOWN OF WAAAGHLOWEEN

DIS IZ WAAAGHLOWEEN, DIS IZ WAAAGHLOWEEN

WEAK GITZ SCREAM IN DA DEAD OV NIGHT

DIS IZ WAAAGHLOWEEN, STAB A GIT AND EAT HIS SPLEEN

KRUMP AND SMASH TIL DEREZ NOONE LEFT AROUND TO FITE

ITZ OWR TOWN, EVERYBODY’Z GREEN

IN DIS TOWN OF WAAAGHLOWEEN

I AM DA WUN DAT WILL KILL YOO ALL DEAD

TEEF DATZ SHARP AND EYEZ GLOWING RED (OR YELLO!)

BLOOD AXE GITZ HIDING UNDER YOUR STAIRZ

SNAKEBITEZ AND GOFFS AND SUM UVVAZ I FORGOT (OOPS)

DIS IZ WAAAGHLOWEEN, DIS IZ WAAAGHLOWEEN

WAAAGHLOWEEN, WAAAGHLOWEEN

WAAAGHLOWEEN, WAAAGHLOWEEN

IN DIS TOWN WOT WE CALL ‘OME

EVERYWUN DAT KNOWZ HOW SING ALONG

IN DIS TOWN WOT WE ALL RITE LIKE

EVERY GITZ ARMED TO DA TEEF ALRITE

ROUND DAT CORNER, GROT STOMPIN IN A KILLA KAN

KOMMANDOZ WAITING NOW TO SNIK YA, MAKE YOO SCREAM

DIS IZ WAAAGHLOWEEN, EVERY DIFFRUNT SHADE OV GREEN

YOO WANNA SCRAP, WELL DATZ JUST FINE

SAY IT WUNCE SAY IT LOTZ

ALL DA BOYZ N SQUIGZ N GROTZ

BAD MOONZ AND EVIL SUNZ RACE AN FITE

EVRYBODY’Z GREEN, EVERYBODY’Z GREEN

IN OUR TOWN OF WAAAGHLOWEEN

I AM DA GIT THAT’LL TEAR OFF YOUR FACE

LOOKIN’ REAL FLASH WEN I PUNCH YOR FACE

I DON’T GIVE A ZOG WHEN YOU SAY “BOSS, NO!”

I STOMP ON YOR ‘EAD AN I STOMP ON YOR TOEZ

DEN I NICK YER TEEF AND I STEAL YOR BIKE

EVERY DAY I WAKE UP LOOKING FOR A FITE

DIS IZ WAAAGHLOWEEN, DIS WAAAGHLOWEEN

WAAAGHLOWEEN, WAAAGHLOWEEN

WAAAGHLOWEEN, WAAAGHLOWEEN

WAAAGHLOWEEN, WAAAGHLOWEEN

TINY SNOTLINGZ EVEREEWERE

LIFEZ NO FUN WIVOUT GITZ TO SCARE

DATZ OUR JOB KUZ WERE BIG N MEEN

IN OUR TOWN OV WAAAGHLOWEEN

IN DIS TOWN WOT WE ALL RITE LIKE

EVERY GITZ ARMED TO DA TEEF ALRITE

SNEAKY GITZ MITE STAB YOO IN DA BACK

OOR MAYBEE DEFFSKULLZ WIV BLOO PAYNTE ON DERE SKIN

DIZ IS WAAAGHLOWEEN, EVERYWUN IZ GREEN

BETTA MAKE WAY FOR A RITE TUFF GIT

BIG MEK DREGZ IS DA BOSS OV DA SPEED WAAAGH

EVERYWUN FOLLOW DA WAAAGH BOSS NOW

DIS IZ WAAAGHLOWEEN, DIS WAAAGHLOWEEN

WAAAGHLOWEEN, WAAAGHLOWEEN

WAAAGHLOWEEN, WAAAGHLOWEEN

IN DIS TOWN WOT WE ALL ARE

EVREE LAST GIT GIV A RITE BIG WAAAAAAGH!!!

#music #ork #warhammer orks #warhammer art #warhammer 40000 #warhammer fantasy #warhammer 40k #warhammercommunity #gorkamorka #krump #halloween #waaagh #parody #song #wh40k #wh40k art #wh40000 #wh40k oc #wh40k meme #wh40crack. #Youtube

[shiyorin]

I wish that you would write a fic where you and Perty spend some time together creating/engineering god machines.

Here you are. Actually I think it was 'Perty is building a machine and he thinks you're bothering him'

Perturabo scowled down at the machine taking shape under his hands. Countless hours spent crafting each girder and gear to exacting specifications, yet still it was not enough. There was always more to be done, more to improve, more deficiencies to root out and correct.

A noise behind drew his gaze, finding a solitary figure observing from the walk above. Perturabo sighed irritably as you followed close behind. Truly, was there no end to this creature's insolence? He had made it explicitly clear you were not welcome in his place. But here you were, barging in once more like you owned the place. Well, no matter. Soon your inevitable blunders would force him to eject you, like others. And if not… There were other means to remedy pests.

You nodded respectfully at being noticed, making no move to approach, a rare show of wisdom, in his view. Most would bombard him with pointless questions or fawning praise at this stage, hampering his work. But he sensed no such intentions from your gaze. Merely open curiosity as eyes traced each component with appreciative care. Studying, but passing no judgment. It was… tolerable, at least for now.

Ignoring you completely, Perturabo returned to his labors, focusing intently on welding a joint into place. He set about assembling components for his latest augmentation. Tools danced skillfully under his guidance as intricate mechanisms began taking shape.

You fell silent, observing with keen interest as joints and pistons slid neatly into place. Perturabo was grudgingly aware of your gaze tracing each minute motion, as if to unfold the creative process unfolding before steely eyes.

It was… disarming, to have such unfettered focus directed his way without demand or expectation. He scowled. What could a paper-pusher possibly comprehend of the ingenuity and graft involved in his works?

But a small, traitorous part inside relished the rapt attention nonetheless. To have one so near who saw his delicate work, it stirred echoes of gratification long thought dead. As if in that moment, his craft held all your fascination simply for its own merits, not his name or reputation. A novel experience, to say the least.

Perturabo redoubled efforts to focus on circuit splicing, mentally banishing such fanciful notions. This was no pleasure outing to indulge idle spectators. There were calculations to finalize and field tests to prepare for, not entertain petty curiosities.

A soft gasp drew his notice despite vows to ignore the interloper. You had moved closer, peering in awe at neatly bundled wiring coming to life under activation. Perturabo froze, hyperaware of her proximity yet loathe to break concentration and perfection almost achieved.

Time passed without remark as systems began integrating fully under his touch. You still watched without complaint or query.At last the final components locked into synchronization in a shuddering crescendo of sound and light. Perturabo straightened, surveying his handiwork with a critical eye. An imperfect machine, as always, he was not satisfied.

He turned then to find you regarding him with a small, knowing smile, as if this imperfect machine were an achievement through your own eyes. He blinked, taken aback by the acknowledgment in your eyes.

Caught off guard, Perturabo found words deserting as emotion welled unexpectedly. What did you want? His mouth moved, words emerging gently, at least he thought so.

"Would you like to know what this machine is?"

#shiyorin's answer #wh40crack #primarch x reader #reader insert #romantic stuff in 40k #warhammer 40k x reader

[shiyorin]

#When you play dumb or your primarchs are just *ahem* horny :v

#I don't know what I wrote. I just do as requested :v

#Roll the dice and it said this time's menu is: Horus Lupercal and Roboute Guilliman.

#This is request from my dearest heretic anon.

#Primarchs x Reader, Reader is Imperial Agent. Malcador is proud of you (is he?)

#A little NSFW.

Horus Lupercal

You sighed listlessly as you wandered the ship, seeking diversion in your boredom. A familiar presence drew you eye, and you spied Horus upon a balcony overlooking the training cages below.

The training cages were alive with activity as Horus observed his Astartes sharpening their skills in mock combat. Though focused on their form, his thoughts drifted elsewhere, preparations for the coming Crusade weighed heavy. He gazed down from the viewing platform, assessing their progress, when soft footsteps alerted him to another's presence.

Horus appeared lost in thought, no doubt pondering weighty matters of strategy and conquest. You crept stealthily across the chamber, the feet making nary a sound upon the plush rugs. Coming up behind the Warmaster unnoticed was no mean feat, but your skills remained as sharp as the blade at your hip.

Finally within reach, you drew a deep breath and exhaled softly upon Horus's neck. A sudden warmth ghosted his ear, followed by a sultry whisper caressed his ear. "Boo..."

He whirled with a start to find your smiling face mere inches from his own, eyes dancing with mischief. Before you could retreat, Horus flashed into action, seizing your arm in an unbreakable grip.

With a grunt he hoisted your form against his chest, pinning your effortlessly as your legs kicked in vain. "Little one." he chuckled, though tension still lingered at the corners of his eyes. "One of these days you will be the death of mine, I fear."

Your eyes dancing with mirth. You laughed breathlessly. "You are no fun, my Warmaster."

"It seems you don't consider me worthy of respect, little one," he sighed, effortlessly maintaining your struggling form. "Sneaking up on your Warmaster, bold, but foolish."

You squirmed halfheartedly, delighting in the feel of his powerful physique caging you in. "And what would the great Warmaster do to earn it, I wonder?"

A gleam entered his eyes, dark promise in every contour of his sculpted features. "Oh, I can think of a few...persuasive methods."

Below, the Astartes fought on, oblivious to the true battle raging within their midst. Horus took his captive agent and you were limp and sated in his arms, marking you thoroughly as his. Only then did he release your, satisfied your pride had been tamed.

Horus smiled down at the dazed your in his arms. "Convinced, my dear?" He purred, nuzzling your satiated cheek. You could only sigh dreamily in reply. It seemed doubts of his prowess were well and truly laid to rest...

Roboute Guilliman

Guilliman reclined upon crisp sheets, body aching from battles past. His scowls only deepened your frown, but still you droned on, casualty reports, supply requisitions, missives from a thousand worlds.

"Do you hear me, my lord?" you pressed, quill scratching relentlessly. He sighed, weary unto his soul.

"Do you think I want to hear what you have to say, agent? I am wounded and wish only silence." His tone brooked no argument, yet still you persisted like the plague.

"You are the Primarch," you said, eyes aglow with righteous fervor. "You must overcome such things for the billions of people of the Imperium. Their hopes and dreams rest upon your shoulders."

Guilliman scrubbed a hand down his face. "I am Primarch, not invincible. Must I sacrifice even my healing for duty's never-ending demands?"

Your look softened, but still you would not yield. "That is not something you can decide, my lord. As were mine." 

The Primarch knew well you spoke truth, bitter though it was. With a grunt he waved your on, closing his eyes against the rising tide of reports.

Guilliman continued to sigh, weariness seeping into his bones. Your report droned on, an endless litany of numbers and names. His mind drifted as you spoke, seeking escape however brief. Your voice took on a new texture in his imagination, breathy sighs and wanton gasps replacing dour droning.

One hand tangled in your locks, tugging your mouth to his in a hungry, open-mouthed kiss. The other grasped that ass, fingers dimpling soft flesh as he thrust up to meet each bounce with abandon as reports fluttered forgotten to the floor. And you will chant his name like a prayer, a litany more rousing than any duty....

By the Throne, was he some green boy still in need of release? Shame warred with lingering heat, desire too long denied by duty's demands. He yearn for soft curves yielding beneath his palms, the taste of your skin, your cries of rapture as he took what was his by right.

You'd whimper and writhe, begging wordlessly for what they both craved. At the first penetration your walls would clutch him like a vice, pulling him deeper, deeper into scalding flesh made solely for his pleasure. He'd pound into your without mercy, relishing each gasp and moan, each slap of flesh on flesh. Only when he'd spent himself fully within your willing sheath would he grant surcease, collapsing in a sweat-soaked tangle of limbs.

By the Throne, how he longed to make that vision reality...

Guilliman blinked, flushing at the path his mind had wandered. But you remained oblivious, quill scratching as reports spilled forth. Little did you know the effect you had, and the fantasies your voice inspired in your lord's lonely chamber...

#shiyorin's writer #wh40crack #warhammer 40k x reader #primarch x reader #reader insert #lol #romantic stuff in 40k #actually i don't think it's romantic

[shiyorin]

Hello👋 I hope you're doing well) if the requests are still open, can you write something for the Emperor of Mankind? 🤭 A soft Yandere with the reader psyker eternal. He does not like when anyone other than Malcador and the Custodians communicate with her, even the primarchs saw her only fleetingly at celebrations. But the reader is completely satisfied with everything. She can do her favorite things and not worry about anything. Dream🥰

The description of the Emperor here is quite vague because I like the way he is portrayed through others's POV. But here we are.

You gazed into the dying embers of the fire, listening to the familiar sounds of your chamber settling into nightly slumber around you. Another day had drawn to a close within the confines of the Imperial Palace, but not for you.

Not yet.

You rose and drifted to the window, looking out upon the sprawling expanse of the Terra below. Lights in thousands of windows flickered like distant stars, whole hive districts darkened as the citizens within their live. All throughout the realm, lives wound down in preparation for the coming dawn.

All except you, it seemed. Not until he came.

As always, your thoughts turned inevitably to him. The gilded cage he had granted you so long ago, this place that served now as your one and onlyhome, however grand. A sanctuary from the cruel outside world, and yet, a prison nonetheless.

His sanctuary. His prison. His… everything.

Always he came to you here at night's deepest hour, even his Custodes can't come here. When the shadows within shadows held dominion and privacy was assured. That was when he would emerge like a wraith to steal what moments he could find in your company, before withdrawing back into the places from whence he came.

The routine had repeated for centuries unchanging. Long ago you had ceased to question its purpose or meaning. It simply was as immutable. Their tryst formed one more link in the chain binding your existence to his in servitude.

Tomorrow, as always, you would see him withdraw once more into isolation, leaving you to continue existing at the periphery, useful, beloved, and ultimately powerless. Another day would pass, and another, each one leading you gradually further from the life you had known outside these walls. From the dreams, ambitions, and connections of your former self.

Until at last even memory itself began to fade like mist beneath the dawn. Only he remained, constant as the Star to guide you remaining years. Your Emperor. Your Master of Mankind. Your God.

His coming disrupted your musings, as inevitable as the tides. You sensed the stirring in the aether that preceded his physical arrival, the subtle bending of probabilities and skein of fate. A shiver traced its way down your spine in premonition.

Turning, you beheld him emerging from a fold in reality itself. Golden light spilled through the rent as he stepped free, severing the passageway behind with a negligent wave. Clad as ever in gold, eyes gleaming like twin suns beneath his ornate armor, he commanded the room utterly.

A god made from a human. Destined to rule all, whether worshipped or reviled. Yours, eternally.

"My dearest." His voice enfolded you, smooth as fine wine yet bearing weight of aeons. "You await me still."

A statement, not a question. He knew as well as you the path each night would take, the steps they must dance through countless repetitions. And the ritual brought them comfort, as all such familiar routines do in a chaotic universe.

You inclined your head. "Always, my lord."

Crossing to your side, he lifted a hand to cradle your cheek, a lover's caress from one who spurned all other connection or weakness. For him there was only duty. Only for you.

You leaned into his touch with a soft sigh, closing your eyes the better to engrave this fleeting instant of intimacy upon your memories. Savoring each sensation as though it were their last, though repetition had dulled the keen edge of uncertainty long ago.

Your Emperor. Your constant. Your prison. Your everything.

#shiyorin's answer #wh40crack #warhammer 40k x reader #reader insert #romantic stuff in 40k

[shiyorin]

#Fulgrim x Reader

#I don't know what else to say but it's just Fulgrim and the way he appreciates your beauty.

#TW: Foot fetish :v

"Hold still." Fulgrim murmured, his voice reverberating with the faintest undercurrent of reverent focus.

You didn't pay his gentle admonition any heed. You lounged indolently upon the sleekly curved divan, hair disheveled and spilling. One shapely leg kicked out at an indolent angle, sole flexing as though to dislodge the embroidered confection of ribbons and organza puddling about your ankles.

Pursing his lips, the Phoenician found himself reaching out to steady that recalcitrant limb, chiding his guest. "My dearest, you must remain composed if I'm to properly attire you."

Your eyes slitted open at that, glinting with indolent amusement. "Must I?" You reply, somehow infusing even those two simple words with silken intimations. "And why should I?"

Had it been anyone addressing him in that tone, Fulgrim might have dismissed them from his presence then and there. But not you. No, toward you he could only sigh with a mixture of exasperation and sublime fascination, conflicting psycho-sculpted vectors tugging him in myriad directions at once.

"Because this night's very important," he explained for what felt like the hundredth time that hour. And for perhaps the hundredth time as well, Fulgrim found his gaze drifting downward over the perfection of your form. From the artful tumble of shimmering tresses to the exquisite hollow of throat and collarbones, all the way down to the ... full swell of...

"You need not demean yourself so, my lord."

Your low, throaty voice rippled as the primarch of the Emperor's Children knelt before your form. Still, you made no move to halt his ministrations or avert your shapely limbs from his attentions.

"Nonsense," the Phoenician throwing you a smile that could disarm worlds. "It is no indignity to bask in sublime beauty and assist in rendering it transcendent."

A delicate smile at that polished retort. "I had expected you of all the primarchs to disdain such... posturing."

If your words landed true, Fulgrim gave no indication. He continued deftly clasping the delicate chains braided from liquid shadow composite to your mirrsilk bodysuit. Each glinting loop spilled outward like baroque silvered vines from the highly articulated armor plates protecting your ankles.

"Posturing?" The primarch arched one perfect, sculpted eyebrow in an aristocratic moue of surprise. "My dear, assisting you in accentuating your exquisite conformation is art of the highest caliber."

Fulgrim paused in trailing his masterful fingertips along the lush, flawless contours of your calf muscle. For a fleeting moment, his noble visage flickered barely perceptible acknowledgment that you had scored a glancing blow with your provocations. Just as quickly, however, that momentary pique faded beneath the Phoenician's typical aura of unshakable poise.

"I don't merely endeavor to enhance your sublime beauty out of empty ritual." he clarified, steadily working the umbrahyde ribbons further up your leg. "Rather, I seek to elevate it to the masterwork it deserves."

The primarch shook his head minutely, allowing several perfectly-coiffed strands of silken platinum to fall charmingly across his brow. He hadn't summoned his entire coterie of beautifiers and augmenated ordators for this affair, only his most trusted serfs. Adorning true, living art required focus and reverence beyond what most anyone could muster.

Pick up the ankle-length indigo striders with the same reverence as handling sanctified gene-wrought. Chemos worked every rivet and nanosynthesized composite fiber with their most skillful arts. Even on the field of apotheosis, no detail was too insignificant nor craftsmanship not elevated into a breathtaking masterpiece.

But compared to the transcendent fleshwork that would soon grace these accoutrements, their beauty paled into vapid obscurity. 

Slowly, reverently, with each appreciative caress and brush of finely wrought material over sacrosanct dermis, he felt himself descending into a blissful rapture few mortals had ever experienced.

Through of his eyes, details of imperfection normally invisible to visual spectra alone burned in blinding clarity through his primogenoid senses. Not the slightest defect escaped his adoring scrutiny as your sculpted perfection unveiled itself in achingly slow ceremony.

First the ankles, those deceptively delicate articulation nodes sutured by intricate hyper-density musculature. How he lavished upon them, worshiping every curve while his psyche greedily drank in their elegant sublimity. Then the calves, wherein bulged and beauty beyond mere human comprehension. Fulgrim's hands roamed across each subtly undulating contour and veinridge.

Next came the magnificence of your thighs, a masterwork of helice and kinesis that stole both breath and soul with its supreme proportions. Such gracious lines and mesmerizing flexion, profiles carved by a billion recursive movements and honed into perfect design.

These were the idealized aesthetics for which any crudely-conceived "masterpieces" could only ever remain a pale imitation. Your body constituted a living canvas of sacred and perfection resonating at the exalted wavelengths of universal beauty....

"You're staring again."

Your voice sliced through the contemplative silence like a razor-edged sibilance. Fulgrim blinked, only just realizing his thought.

"Apologies." the noble primarch offered with an elegant dip of his perfect features. "You'll have to forgive an artist's momentary rapture when confronted with such a breathtaking subject."

Then, with a courtly flourish utterly at odds with his preceding transformation, the Lord of the Third raised your fingers to his full, sensuous lips. Jeweled irises of amethyst glowed with inner luminescence as he pressed a kiss to your silk glove.

"Come." he urged. "They await an introduction..."

#shiyorin's writer #wh40crack #primarch x reader #reader insert #romantic stuff in 40k

[shiyorin]

#Princess and the frog? No, it is Reader and the Primarchs frog... I mean 25cm doll :v

#Big E: I should have known dolls worked better than frogs sooner.

#Today's menu: Konrad and Sanguinius.

#Just a romcom story. No one ask but I still do it for funny :v

You tossed fitfully, dreaming strange dreams in the depths of night. When awareness surfaced, you found yourself in a moonlit glade, sparkling with an ethereal glow. 

A rustling came from the treeline, and out stepped a being so bizarre you wondered if still dreaming. Clad head to toe in fluttery silks of spun gold, gossamer wings fluttered serenely upon a back too broad for any bird or insect. 

"Fear not, mortal!" came an undeniably masculine though lilting voice. "I am your Fairy Godmother, here to aid you in this dark hour."

You stared, speechless. Was this truly Him? "Uh...right. Nice dress?"

The Emperor swooned theatrically. "Why thank you dear! Now, down to business - you seek handsome princes, no?" 

"Not particularly-"

"Excellent! For I have just the task." With a blinding flash, many fat toads appeared amid flickering lights. Wait...those bulging eyes seemed awfully familiar...

"Alas, these poor souls were cursed. A kiss from beauty's lips alone can break the spell!" announced Fairy Godmother Emperor. 

You eyed the frogs warily. "And what if their infectious diseases jump from mouth to mouth upon such contact?"

Fairy Emperor pouted, wings drooping. "Fear not harm, my dear! True love conquers all impediments. Now, chop chop - kiss them and claim your men!"

With that he shoved you none-too-gently towards the waiting amphibians. You dug in your heels stubbornly. "Absolutely not! I'll catch some plague for certain, kissing frogs willy-nilly."

Unfortunately, the frogs had other ideas. They began hopping toward you, croaking plaintively as only amphibians can. You shrieked and ran, the army of frogs gaining swiftly. Diving into the woods, you dashed wildly as frog gave chase.

Crashing through brambles with amphibious entourage in relentless pursuit, you fled breathlessly until-

You woke with a start, entangled in sweat-soaked sheets. Many pairs of bulging eyes stared down at you, and you realized with dread - the frogs had infiltrated your very dreams! Screaming, you swatted them away, bolting upright just in time to see...

Nothing. Only empty room greeted your wide eyes. It had only been a nightmare after all. You sighed shakily, scrubbing your face rigorously as if to purge all memory of Fairy Emperor's nonsensical demands.

From now, you vowed never to sample strange foods before bedtime again.

Konrad Curze

You returned wearily to your chambers after a long shift, eager to collapse into comforting silks. But stopping short, a glint of silver caught your eye amid folds in bed.

Approaching cautiously, you peeled back layers to reveal a stuffed doll nestled innocently within. It was fashioned to resemble a certain Night Haunter, down to each rasping spike and curl of thread-hair. 

Though only 25cm tall, its button eyes seemed eerily familiar, bearing the Primarch's unnerving gleam. You scooped it up suspiciously, turning the toy this way and that. 

Who would leave such a thing, and why model it after Konrad Curze of all beings? You wondered if it was some joke, yet detected no hint of tampering. Likely one of the Emperor's strange gifts that simply...appeared sometimes.

Resolving to ponder mysteries later, you shrugged and nestled your new companion. "Well little doll, it's true your original is far from cuddly. But you're rather cute yourself!"

Burying your face in soft felt, you swore you felt tiny muscles tensing as the doll seemed almost...desperate to escape your hold. You paid it no mind, merely tightening your grasp with a contented sigh. Because that was surely impossible! 

Observe button eyes pleading silently, On a strange impulse, you pressed a fleeting kiss to the doll's stitched mouth, stilling its squirms.

At once a tremendous plume of dark smoke erupted, swallowing the room in choking fumes. You fell back coughing, but through the haze saw a towering silhouette emerge like a vengeful wraith. 

When smoke cleared, a fully formed Konrad Curze stood before you - all ten feet of primal fury barely contained within smoldering armor. Yet his usual scowl seemed almost... bashful? His pale skin flushed to a sallow stain across razor-thin cheeks. And were those dark eyes widening in dread?

He grasped desperately for some semblance of composure, snarling to mask inner turmoil. “Explain yourself, mortal, before I flay you where you stand!” 

You gaped, struggling to process this abrupt transformation. “I, uh...kissed your doll?” 

Realization dawned in widening dark orbs. “The visions spoke true. I....”

Your mind is reeling. What in the Emperor's name had just occurred?! "My... My Lord... So... you were the toy all along?" 

A curt nod, gaze darting fitfully about as if seeking escape. Clearly the Night Haunter wished to be anywhere but here, pressed into vulnerability by his bizarre enchantment's end.

He backed slowly into a shadowed corner, hoping its folds might swallow him whole. Never had Konrad felt so exposed, so embarrassed, and at the hands of a mere mortal, no less!

"The Emperor deemed a...lesson was in order..." His whisper was ragged, commanding. Yet undercurrents of shyness shone through crackling anger and pride. "This humiliation is beyond enduring." 

You couldn’t help but smile, endeared by his fluster. But why? You should be scared and terrified when facing a Primarch!  But no, you find him... cute? Your taste in men is terrible and you should die for that. You smile wryly "There now, it can't have been that horrible a kiss to transform you so."

A mighty gauntlet shot out to capture your wrist before you could continue your word. Konrad gripped just tightly enough to emphasize his immense strength without harm, glaring daggers through slitted gaze slits.

"You shall tell no soul of this humiliation, mortal," he growled, low and menacing. Yet the effect was ruined somewhat by a pink flush darkening to fuschia across his cheek plates. You merely grinned wider. You know you are playing with fire and would die.

"Oh, I don't know. Your reaction seems payment enough for that." you mused slyly, tapping his knuckles with your free hand. "Maybe another kiss, hmm?"

Thought Konrad surely imagined eviscerating the audacious creature where you stood, lingering embarrassment gave way to begrudging intrigue instead. Leaning down, he brushed your cheek in a facsimile of affection, warmth echoing through plating. Lips brushed softly in the embrace's sheltering shadow, kindling sparks that may blossom yet into something beautiful, unexpected…

Sanguinius

You groaned, rubbing gritty eyes as reports swam blurrily before your. 11 hours straight hammering away in this suffocating medicae vault had pushed even your limit.

"Enough!" you snarled, flinging down your datapad in frustration. The neverending  bureaucracy would be the death of them all at this rate. Glaring about at mountains yet unscaled, you longed for sweet oblivion's embrace.

A flash of silvery white caught your weary gaze. On the floor beside your chair lay a small stuffed toy, a perfect miniature Sanguinius in all his golden glory. You blinked slowly, wondering if exhaustion had driven you mad at last.

"Great, Now I'm hallucinating." you muttered, scooping up the 25cm high Primarch doll. Its fabric wings extended invitingly and you couldn't help but nestle it against your cheek with a bone-deep sigh. The toy smelled faintly of plumage and night-blooming blossoms, soothing your frayed nerves. 

But as you sagged against the barricade of unfinished records, even hallucinations could not stave off sleep's implacable tide. You curled around the tiny angel and surrendered, visions fading to blankness at long last...

Light caressed your face some untold time later, lingering there as if loath to disturb. You grumbled and would have rolled away, but something held you securely yet gently in place. 

Bleary eyes blinked open to confusion. You lay slumped across your desk still, but a soft blanket had been draped protectively over slender form. And those weren't feathers caught in your hair, were they?

You sat up abruptly, dislodging more downy intruders. 

"But...how...?" you protested weakly. Only the teasing morning breeze answered through open ceiling panels, rippling records abandoned by your side.  

No footprints marred the dust-coated floor, and the door remained bolted fast. You hugged yourself, feathers floating free on invisible currents as mind chased circling mysteries endlessly. 

You eyed the tiny doll warily, half convinced you still dreamt amid paperwork piles. Gently poking its downy cheek elicited no response, yet the craftsmanship seemed uncannily lifelike. 

"Weird..." you muttered, though found yourself drawn again to those embroidered features so serenely angelic. On a whim, you pressed a featherlight kiss to its head, chuckling at your own folly. 

Smoke billowed where the doll had sat, forcing your back with a gasp. Two massive wings materialized amidst swirling mist, great plumes showering silvery motes as they stretched to their full span. Before you coalesced a giant finding you with a patient smile.

"Lord Sanguinius!" You shrieked, recoiling instinctively from this new impossibility. Your hands fumbled panic-stricken for the door behind, scrabbling at locked metal in desperation. 

"Your reaction… quite far from what I expected," came his soft voice behind. You froze at the gentle jest, relief warring with confusion and not a little dread. 

Wings rustled and a warm presence appeared at your back, blocking escape. "Am I truly so terrifying, mortal?" Sanguinius asked, hurt faint yet unmistakable. 

You dared a look over your shoulder into his earnest face. Gods, those earnest faces would be your undoing one day...Cheeks burning, you stammered, "M-my apologies, Angel. You just surprised me, that's all."

His beam could have lit the darkest void. "No harm done. Now, reward my efforts properly. Does a kiss still await?"

Heat scalded your further. Kiss??? But those hopeful eyes would accept no refusal, and truly, he deserved reward...

Slowly turning, you gazed up into sapphire orbs aglow with boundless compassion. Steeling your nerve, you leaned close and touched your lips to his gently.

Feathers as soft as velvet caressed your cheek in answer. When at last you broke away, light-headed and heartsore, Sanguinius grinned triumphantly. "See? No peril nor perilous acts to earn beauty's favor."

#shiyorin's writer #wh40crack #primarch x reader #reader insert #romantic stuff in 40k #lol #actually i don't think it's romantic #warhammer 40k x reader

[shiyorin]

#Primarchs x reader but it is modern au

#Well, actually here are some drabbles I wrote for challenge modern au with my friends. I almost forgot I wrote it

#Romcom but actually one is a rom and one is a com.

#Menu: Sanguinius and Roboute Guilliman

Sanguinius

You sighed, gazing idly at the latest abstract sculptures on display. How you had been convinced to come to this event, you did not know. Curiosity, perhaps. Or a desire for something different, however fleeting.

You wandered from piece to piece, managing polite smiles and vague comments when addressed. The other patrons were a study in extravagance, jewel-toned gowns, colognes that announced wealth and status with every spray. You felt woefully out of place in your modest attire, there to observe from the sidelines.

Making to leave, you turned, and found yourself face to face with Sanguinius himself.

He smiled gently, warmly, in a manner that made your ensuing frown seem all the harsher. "I thought that might be you," he said. "I'm glad you decided to come."

What could you say? That you had no interest in his efforts, his wealth, his world of aesthetics and social climbing? Somehow you doubted even your harshest words could dampen that gentle smile.

Instead, you said. "The artwork is…interesting."

Sanguinius chuckled. "You despise it."

You clenched your jaw. Were you that transparent? But before you could retort, Sanguinius continued.

"That's alright. Beauty lies in the eye of the beholder, as they say." He held your gaze steadily, openly. "If you'll allow me, I think I see a kind of beauty in you that transcends all this."

You blinked, taken aback. This was not the response you had anticipated. Before you could gather your thoughts, Sanguinius bowed his head. "Forgive me. I overstep." And with that, he was gone, lost amidst the crowd.

You stood still for a long moment, pondering this strange encounter. A part of your wished to dismiss it, leave this foreign world behind once more. And yet, something intrigued you about him.

With a sigh, you left the gallery. But your thoughts lingered still on Sanguinius.

*****

Sanguinius sighed, staring out the window of his studio with unseeing eyes. His mind replayed the brief encounter with you at the gallery over and over, cataloging every awkward beat and missed opportunity.

"You despise it." He had said, and he had chuckled, played it cool. As if his heart wasn't pounding at finally being face to face with this enigmatic who held his thoughts captive.

He should have said something clever, charming. Asked your favorite flowers, favorite wine. Instead he offered vague platitudes and retreated like a coward, leaving you in there.

Sanguinius cringed. Had all those years playing the beloved artist prince addled his silver tongue beyond repair?

Pushing away from the window, he began to pace. He could have told you about the time he sprained his wrist painting your likeness from memory. Or how every sculpture he crafted seemed an effort to capture some fleeting trace of your grace. Or how -

"Ridiculous," he muttered to the empty room. You clearly wanted nothing to do with his affections. And well you should! What had he to offer beyond annoy you?

Still, the memory of your averted gaze and tightly crossed arms stung him.

"Next time," he vowed to the mirror, "Next time, I just need one more."

With a sigh, Sanguinius turned back to his workbench, and began to sketch. Ideas for new pieces taking shape, works that might one day, somehow, win the regard of your heart.

Roboute Guilliman

Guilliman jogged up the stairs to your loft, dread pooling in his gut. The half-coherent slurring over the phone signaled trouble, as usual. 

Upon entering, he sighed at the all-too-familiar sight awaiting - you sprawled gracelessly across the couch, bottle of vodka dangling precariously from limp fingers as you brow furrowed intensely at your laptop on the floor.

"What did we talk about this?" Guilliman sighed, bending to retrieve the laptop. He knew before even booting it up what he'd find. 

"I'm verrrrry fine and for sure not drunk!" You protested, flailing an arm wildly. "Why would I need to be drunk, nothing was wrrrong at all. The vodkaaaaa? Naw, that's just...that's just morrrrrral suppppppppport!" 

Guilliman pinched the bridge of his nose, opening the laptop. Yep, there was your popular anonymous venting forum, your anonymous profile clearly hammered as usual. 

"You need to stop getting on the internet when you're drunk, or stop getting drunk when you're on the internet," he lectured wearily. "Jeez, this is...ugh."

You barked a harsh laugh. "You're one to taaaaaaaalk! At leassssst I don't write angry tweets to Landlord Association Presidents about proper...proper ventilation codes when I'm trasheeeeeeed!" 

Guilliman flushed, fishing out his phone. Sure enough, several draft angry tweets awaited deletion in the morning. He coughed. "Regardless, you're dealing with the consequences of your actions this time." 

You groaned as he scrolled. "I say one little thing about Angron's anger issues suddenly meaning he can't handle a puppy and everyone loses their minds!" 

Guilliman read the fiery thread questioning Angron's prospective puppy adoption. Yikes. At least you hadn't doxxed anyone in your drunken ranting this time. Small miracles. 

"Lucky for you, I cleaned it up," he reassured, sparing your the drama. "Now, let's get you hydrated before round two of the vomiting begins."

You scowled but obediently sipped the electrolyte drink he handed your. "You're no fun, Roboute. How am I supposed to vent my frustrations creatively without liquid inspiration?" 

"You could try a journal, or healthy coping skills." he suggested blandly, though they both knew that was pointless. This was who you was - passionate, impulsive, and mysteriously charming even wasted. 

"Ugh, soooo boring. Maybe I'll just start an anonymous YouTube venting channel. What could go wrong?" You mused, raking a hand through tangled hair. 

Guilliman groaned. "Please don't give the internet any more of your drunken thoughts. For now, focus on keeping what's left of your dinner down and get some rest. I'll be here making sure you don't do anything too regrettable offline too."

You flipped him a rude gesture but burrowed underneath the blankets obediently. He chuckled, settling in for the long night watch as usual. Another crisis averted, for now at least. You sniffled miserably from beneath the blanket mound as Guilliman scrolled through the aftermath of your drunken posting. 

"Oh god, you thought about it, didn't you?" he sighed knowingly. Last year's intoxicated vent had sparked such a vicious flame war that his still shuddered at the memory. 

That seemed to be the tipping point as you burst into tears. "I'm trying to change, this shit, people from the outside don't get how much bullshit we gotta put up with, and if lucky hate it, and, and-" 

"Okay, alright, you need to sleep this off," Guilliman soothed, setting the laptop aside. "Come on, up you get."

But you only cried louder, curling in on yourself tighter. Guilliman sighed, recognizing the onset of a full-blown anxiety attack. 

"Look, you know why you're not supposed to use Twitter, yeah?" He asked gently. You nodded miserably into the couch. 

"Because I get like this."

Resigned to damage control, Guilliman retrieved the laptop once more. Glancing at your drunken thread, he frowned. "Ugh..."

You peeked out with red-rimmed eyes. "Is it that bad?"

Guilliman hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. The thread had devolved into the usual vitriol and trash talk, with more than a few personal insults directed at you yourself sprinkled in.

"Well...maybe we should ask Alpharius and Omegon to solve it." he suggested, only half joking. The twin did have an uncanny knack for scrubbing digital messes unseen. 

You hiccuped a watery giggle at the idea of unleashing the secret agents on your trolls. Your panic seemed to ease slightly.

Guilliman couldn't help a small smile in return before launching into maximum distraction mode. "Alright, you've had your fun crying for tonight. Now it's time to plot our revenge against the haters!"

You sniffled but nodded, anticipation gleaming through your swollen eyes. "What did you have in mind...?"

"Well first, we gather blackmail on the worst offenders..." Guilliman began deviously, launching into an absurdly convoluted revenge scheme. 

#shiyorin's writer #wh40crack #warhammer 40k x reader #primarch x reader #reader insert #modern au #Does anyone want to send a request for modern au? #lol

[shiyorin]

#A wholesome story about Magnus and Reader

#Just Magnus and his sleepy Reader

#Cheesy

Magnus sighed wearily as he perused yet another tome by candlelight, seeking insight to bolster his crusade. Knowledge was power in this grim age, and he spared no effort in amassing armaments of the mind.

A sound disturbed his study, the faint slip of parchment against parchment. Curious, Magnus rose to investigate, rounding towering shelves to glimpse a curious sight. You lay curled amidst scattered missives, having finally surrendered to exhaustion's sweet call.

Even in slumber's embrace you retained elegance, cheek pillowed upon folded arms as silken strands fanned delicate features. Magnus smiled inwardly at your dedication, forgetting all but ensuring your rest remained undisturbed.

Gently he scooped your form into cradling arms, holding you close but carefully as not to rouse. You sighed softly but did not stir, surrendering completely to his protection even unconscious. Magnus treasured this, guiding your weightless form from the archives.  

Through twisting corridors he bore his precious burden, footsteps muffled as not to disturb your rest. At chamber doors he passed through wards with whispering thought alone, sheltering you from prying eyes or ears within walls.

Laying you upon canopied silks, Magnus gazed upon you. A lock had fallen across your forehead. On impulse he dared brush it back, tracing feather-light the curve of cheek and jaw afterwards in adoration.

You stirred at his touch, dark lashes flickering open to reveal hazy. Recognition slowly took hold as sleep receded, finding yourself not at toil but in Magnus's chamber. But you seemed unperturbed, content to simply regard him through half-lidded eyes.

"Rest, my dearest" Magnus soothed, loath to break this respite. "You've earned repose from cares of duty." You shifted slightly, raising a delicate hand to clasp his fingers lingering against cheek. 

"My thanks, lord primarch." You replied softly. Eyes gleamed with invitation as you drew his trembling fingers down, pressing a fleeting kiss to scarred knuckles in benediction. 

Magnus enfolded your fingers within his own massive palm, bending to kiss silk-soft skin. Eyes meeting, no words were needed at that moment.

Lips met gently in the moonlit alcove, the night is still long.

Extra:

Magnus: Did you know the human brain has an erogenous zone directly to learning new things?

Reader:......

#shiyorin's writer #primarch x reader #reader insert #warhammer 40k x reader #romantic stuff in 40k #wh40crack

[shiyorin]

This came from a joke between me and my friend. And it is heretic :v

#Yandere chapter space marines? Yeah….

#Blood Angels, Flesh Tearers and Lamenters.

#Don't ask me, I don't know what I'm doing.

Blood Angels

You awoke with a start, heart pounding. Another nightmare, yet this one lingered behind closed lids, elusive yet unsettling. Rubbing sleep from eyes, moonlight filtering through stained glass recalled where you lay, guest of the Blood Angels once more. 

Rising, soft slippers padded silent halls as restless feet sought solace. Marble gleamed ethereal, statuesque giants flanking your passage like solemn sentinels. A turn, and shadows shifted, was that movement ahead?

"You should not wander so late, mortal." Brother Varrael's rich timbre sent shivers down spine, lips curving a lover's smile yet eyes hooded, intent. "These halls hold memories better left undisturbed." 

His massive hand enclosed your smaller one with surprising gentleness, leading unresisting to familiar chambers. "Rest, and I will stand guard over you." Lingering kiss upon brow held an edge of desperation you dared not know. 

Days passed in diligent company, recording heroic epics for future generations. Yet unease grew, visions' shadows slipping between waking and dreams. Hands grasped where none should be, voices crooned foreign desires in loved tones warped. 

Heart seizing, you fled, only to collide with Varrael's towering form emerging from shadows. His strong arms imprisoned your struggling form against massive chest as velvet words whispered of dark devotion no lips should know. Livid scars criss-crossing pale flesh spoke of daemons conquering will through flesh alone.

Days blurred into restless nightmares, reality twisting beyond recognition. Every interaction held veiled intimations too intimate to comprehend, too blasphemous to accept. Yet denying the truth invited madness. 

His helm obscured his features, but you'd know Varrael's scent anywhere. Hot breath whispered your name against your ear as his other hand pinned your waist possessively. You shivered, seeing not fury but desperation in his stance. 

"Varrael, please..." Your plea was lost in a needy kiss, tastes of blood and longing upon his tortured lips. 

His mind swam in a crimson sea, torn between devotion and rage's call. Your light soothed the beast within, yet each parting fed its hunger for your touch alone. When next you stood together on the field of battle, survival instinct blurred with a need to shield, claim, destroy. 

Days passed in blissful torment, stolen moments reaffirmed devotion, yet bloodlust simmered nearer the surface for him. Try as he might, control was fleeting against the curse's tide. And when passion overcame his iron will whilst lost in your embrace, fangs slipping to graze your throat in ecstasy.

Flesh Tearers

You knew accepting this assignment with the Flesh Tearers meant danger, yet how could you refuse such a historic opportunity? Now you regretted agreeing as the Astartes' unhinged nature was laid bare. 

The Astartes spared you no glance. Except one, Tahareil especially unsettled you, his ice blue eyes tracking your every move with disturbing intensity. When allies fell in battle, his enraged howls shook the very foundation, an unearthly sound that raised primal fears. 

In coming weeks, your recordings captured noble Astartes in acts of valor against xenos and heretic alike. All performed duties with grim resolve. And Tahareil, who revelled in slaughter's ecstasy with abandon that chilled your soul. His thirst for blood appeared unquenchable, beyond duty's call. 

"Be at ease, mortal." he rumbled softly. "No enemies shall reach you whilst I stand vigil."

His protective claim should have reassured, but an undercurrent chilled your blood. When had a simple recording become so fraught with subtext unspoken? 

When battle was done, you worked alone editing recordings in sequestered chamber provided. Yet lingering unease persisted you were not alone. Sometimes catching fleeting glimpse of shadow beyond the chamber's edge, scent of musk and iron lingering where none walked. Paranoia's creeping fingers closed about your mind, were you truly an observer here, or had another thing found you?

One night exhaustion took hold, dropping guard enough to drift to fitful dreams.There terror's form coalesced, hulking figure looming over helpless prey pinned trembling in grasping claws. Feral grin split nightmare's maw as it dipped to sample sweetness on quivering flesh, revelling in lifeblood's rich perfume.

A gasp tore your throat awake, soaked in cold sweat upon rumpled pallet. But no, the nightmare lingered still, a shadow stirred beyond veil, eyes glinting some primal madness barely leashed. 

"Pretty little thing, almost forgot your scent..." Tahareil's rasp caressed your fears incarnate, large hand capturing trembling wrist to draw you against him. "Tell me mortal, did you use your witchery on me?" 

He inhaled your racing pulse, claws tracing your quaking form with possessive. Lips parted to protest yet words died, transfixed by the scare blazing beneath visored dark. 

"Let me taste it." his growl reverberated, "See what witchery makes me like this." 

His grip was iron, struggling futilely. Gauntleted claws rent flesh baring pulsing artery, raging beat filling bestial senses. Jagged fangs plunged deep, agonizing ecstasy flooding nerves as blood flooded.

Lamenters

You awake with a start, the shadows of another nightmare slowly slipping away. As consciousness returns, you become aware of a light pressure around your wrists and ankles. Panic rises in your throat as your eyes adjust to the dim light of phosphor stones. 

That's when you see him, sitting vigil at your bedside. Chapter master Malakim Phoros of the Lamenters looks exhausted, the dark circles under his eyes a sharp contrast to his pallid skin. But his gaze, as it falls upon you, holds only concern. 

"Forgive me," he rasps, voice rough from disuse. "The others thought it best until you'd rested. They mean no harm, only to keep you safe." 

You struggle to calm your racing heart. Abductions were not unknown, with the Lamenters' curse of ill fortune. But Malakim had always watched over you with a devoted, tender care unlike the others. 

His guilt-wracked smile is gentle as he administers sips of water through a straw. "The night terrors will find you. We could not risk you wandering in such a state.” 

You nod weakly, the adrenaline fading. His haunted eyes hold only relief at your return to lucidity. His love for you is palpable, yet shaded by a darkness borne of endless suffering and self-loathing.

In time your bonds are removed, though Malakim remains at your side. His brothers drift past your cell-like chamber, gaunt faces lighting momentarily at glimpses within. They meant only protection, you know, but their shattered minds leave little room for trust beyond their brethren. 

And you, their one ray of light in an ocean of gloom. Their luck, as Malakim whispers reverently whilst stroking your hair, sent to lift their cursed spirits from the depths of madness and despair. A blessing too precious to abandon to fate's cruelty, whatever the cost.

#shiyorin's writer #wh40crack #tw: yandere #cw: yandere #yandere au #warhammer 40k x reader #reader insert #space marine x reader #Heretic but I think it fun :v